


Blighted Dreams

by presidentwarden



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Fluff, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/presidentwarden/pseuds/presidentwarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on tumblr, "sharing a bed." Simple, straightforward, fluffy. AU with Lady Loghain as usual.</p><p>- - -</p><p>Loghain strokes Alma’s fine grey hair with gentle fingers, tucking it behind her pointed ears to get a clearer look at the elf’s lovely face. “For me, they disappear after several nights of rest. You haven’t slept well on the road, have you?”</p><p>“No, of course I haven’t. I’m too busy supervising this ridiculous group of ours. Remember, I’m the Grey Warden, ready at every beck and call.” Alma sighs, glancing towards the ceiling as though she’ll find some reassurance there. “I’ve always had the dreams. The first glimpse of the archdemon was unsettling, I have to say. That happened back when I was gathering the treaties.” That seems like an eternity ago. She glances up to get a better glimpse of Loghain, vision of disheveled loveliness that she is. “When yours happens, you’ll know.”</p><p>The larger woman coughs softly. “Yes. I did know.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blighted Dreams

Nights pass more easily when spent indoors under the comfort of a roof. The party has endured a difficult slog of travel through back roads this week, finally leading to a small and humble inn, and they couldn’t be more grateful for the change. The hard, wet, windy, mud-caked life the Wardens have led is taking its toll, leading to slight colds and aches and pains all around -- even for the party’s youngest members, which Alma is not.

She awakens in the middle of the night, stirring weakly, and sits up to take stock of her surroundings. Rest does not come easily as the darkspawn draw nearer, interrupting her dreams with splintered fragments of the archdemon’s call. A flickering candlelit lamp illuminates the room from one corner, casting stark shadows that threaten to form the shape of lurking demons. Alma rubs her eyes, brushing long strands of silver hair out of her face, and looks again. The demons have vanished. She murmurs to herself, stifling a yawn. “That was a ridiculous thought.”

Her partner in the bed stirs, reaching out to loosely rest her arm around Alma’s slim waist, and pulls the small elf closer, nestling their bodies close together again. Her voice is thick with drowsiness, heavy-lidded grey eyes opening just enough to take a good look at Alma. A soft, sleepy smile plays across full lips. “Stay here. You need your rest.”

“So do you.” Alma wraps her arms around her lover, tucking her head under Lady Loghain’s chin. The blankets are strewn loosely around them, but Alma doesn’t care; Loghain is warm enough to keep her comfortable. She’s dressed in a light sleeveless top and comfortable shorts, while Alma is in her usual sensible grey nightgown, sewn from thin cloth that falls loosely around her petite frame. She clings to Loghain tightly, reaching up with one hand to run her fingers through thick black hair. “You should undo your braids.”

“I already redid them tonight. I don’t care to have to do it again tomorrow morning.” Loghain rolls over onto her back, freely inviting Alma to crawl on top of her and snuggle up. Once they’re comfortable again, Alma lets her hands wander, appreciating her lover’s broad shoulders and full breasts. This meets with a raised eyebrow from Loghain. “What are you doing there, my love?”

“Nothing.” Alma glances elsewhere, letting go, and shifts her touch down to Loghain’s hipbones instead, caressing gently. When she tires of this she slides her arms around the teyrna’s waist and settles down again, laying her head on Loghain’s chest. “Do you have the Blight dreams, too?”

“Constantly.” Loghain strokes Alma’s fine grey hair with gentle fingers, tucking it behind her pointed ears to get a clearer look at the elf’s lovely face. “For me, they disappear after several nights of rest. You haven’t slept well on the road, have you?”

“No, of course I haven’t. I’m too busy supervising this ridiculous group of ours. Remember, I’m the Grey Warden, ready at every beck and call.” Alma sighs, glancing towards the ceiling as though she’ll find some reassurance there. “I’ve always had the dreams. The first glimpse of the archdemon was unsettling, I have to say. That happened back when I was gathering the treaties.” That seems like an eternity ago. She glances up to get a better glimpse of Loghain, vision of disheveled loveliness that she is. “When yours happens, you’ll know.”

The larger woman coughs softly. “Yes. I did know.”

“You had it already?” Alma blinks, suddenly trying to make sense of this. She pushes herself up on one elbow to deliver a stern look. “How recently?”

“A few nights. I didn’t want to disturb you with the details of it.”

“Loghain, we stay in the same tent!”

“You were fast asleep at the time.” She defends her decision, wearing a mild hurt look. ”I know how poorly you’ve slept this week. I wasn’t about to deprive you of that, just for the sake of asking about a dream.”

“You’re too much.” Alma shakes her head, lying back down again, and lets out a reluctant but satisfied sigh as Loghain’s strong arms close around her unexpectedly in a hug. Within seconds she relaxes into the embrace, appreciating the care and the love in the teyrna’s touch. “What? I’m fine. I promise.”

“I know you are.” Loghain hesitates a moment, then kisses the top of her head, cherishing her with touches and caresses. All of a sudden Alma doesn’t notice the chill of the room, just the warmth of Loghain’s mouth as it meets hers in a gentle, pleading kiss. They separate unwillingly after some moments, and Loghain looks nearly bashful. “I just wanted to be sure.”

“Is that it?” Alma can’t quite hold back a grin. She studies the other woman for some moments, then climbs off and moves to lie on the mattress beside Loghain, and is not at all surprised when she finds herself tugged into an embrace again, soft kisses moving up her throat. With difficulty, she gets a grip on her words, biting her lip to conceal the grin. “You were telling me to go back to sleep just a few minutes ago. How do you expect me to rest after this?”

“I didn’t say that.” One of Loghain’s braids has fallen into her face, the thick woven black strands that frame her cheekbones on either side. She pushes it out of the way, wondering if Alma’s suggestion might have been helpful after all. Maybe she could redo the braids in the morning. It’s too late to worry about that now, though. Her teeth worry gently at her lower lip, and Alma’s attention is suddenly fixated on her shapely mouth. Loghain clears her throat. “I believe I asked you to stay.”

“Ah.” Alma lifts an eyebrow, dragging her gaze back up to meet Loghain’s, and leans in for another kiss, given freely. What she feels is a rare, visceral craving, a longing for the woman beside her that perhaps might never be fully satisfied. It forms a peculiar knot in her stomach and a satisfying warmth in her soul. “Trust me, Loghain. I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
